As Zeral painstakingly gathered mementos that evoked memories of his family, he fervently scoured the desolate ruins. Among the debris, his hands unearthed a buried necklace, hidden beneath the weight of rocks. As he cradled it in his hands, a wistful smile graced his face, for this precious artifact once adorned his (now departed) wife, Jane.

"Oh, thanks," Zeral uttered softly, his smile lingering as he delicately placed the necklace around an imaginary neck. "This is for you, my love." The illusion of Jane materialized in his mind, and he smiled back at the ethereal figure. "It's so beautiful..."

With an ache in his heart, Zeral tenderly grasped the imaginary hands of his wife and whispered, "Nothing is more beautiful than you."

In the midst of the ruinous landscape, the illusion of Jane leaned in, her ethereal lips meeting his. As the imaginary kiss unfolded, she whispered, "I love you," a phrase that resonated through the haunting emptiness of the abandoned town. The poignant dance between memory and reality played out, imbuing the desolation with a bittersweet symphony of romance and the lingering sadness of loss.

Zeral touched his lips to the top of the necklace, cooing, "Don't worry, I will give it to you when I meet you again."

Then he looked to the sky and began screaming, "I WILL!!... I SWEAR!!... I WILL FIND AWAY TO REACH YOU...YOU HEAR ME? I WILL COME TO YOU!" He shoved the necklace in his pocket and left the house, starting to walk away from the city of Bartak.

He departed from the place that cradled precious memories of his past life, a time when he was a beloved soul, cherished by all who knew him. The joy and warmth seemed to linger in the very air, resonating with the recollections of a time when he was a beacon of kindness, and the affection of others enveloped him like a comforting embrace. As he walked away, the dilapidated structures bore witness to the transformation from the person he once was—a figure adorned with love and adoration—to the solitary wanderer haunted by the shadows of bygone happiness.

"Hail to our beloved warrior, who fought for the king!" The jubilant cheers of the crowd resounded as he rode his horse into the town, the atmosphere pulsating with the confident air that only a true hero could exude. Applause echoed through the air, a chorus of appreciation for the valiant warrior returning to his hometown.

As he dismounted his steed, the crowd continued to express their gratitude, showering him with praises. "You are the hero of the city!" they declared, their voices a harmonious chorus of admiration. In the heart of Bartak, he was celebrated as the heroic figure who had fought valiantly for their king.

Even the children, wide-eyed and full of awe, regarded him as if he were a living legend, a superhero gracing their humble town. Stepping forward, he lowered his sword, the gleaming blade catching the sunlight. With a triumphant flourish, he announced, "I'm back to you, my lovely hometown. King David the 7th of Antorya sends his regards to all." The cheers swelled anew, embracing him as the returning champion of Bartak.

As he strolled through the town, Zeral made his way to the city's church, a place where he had sought solace and guidance in the past. The present moment, however, marked a departure from the city, a farewell to the familiar and a reflection on his journey.

Inside the solemn confines of the church, he sought out the priest to share the tale of his triumph under the commands of the king—a victorious war against another kingdom, where he believed divine intervention had played a role.

"My dear father, I'm back home, and I owe it to your prayers and the prayers of others," Zeral expressed, gratitude etched on his face.

The priest welcomed him with a warm smile. "Oh, welcome home, my son. Thank God you are as fine as you were the last time I saw you."

Zeral reciprocated the sentiment, "Same here. I'm glad that you and the others are okay. Thank God that I'm back alive after what I witnessed in that terrible war!"

Acknowledging the brutality of the conflict, the priest nodded solemnly. "Yes, I heard. It was vicious, and many lives were lost. Yet here you stand, alive and well, not a scratch on your face. You did well, my son."

Pride swelling within him, Zeral asserted, "Yes, I did, and this is my duty. I will continue to serve as a warrior for this kingdom. My blood is intertwined with the destiny of this land. I will fight until the end for it and for you, my people." His gaze encompassed all the citizens of Bartak, who began to chant his name—an anthem that resonated through the church, the real name of Zeral, a name even he had almost forgotten.

After receiving a tender kiss on the forehead from the priest, Zeral made his way home to reunite with his wife and his son, Johnny, who had eagerly awaited his return for what felt like an eternity. Spotting his father, Johnny rushed towards the warrior, tears streaming down his face, exclaiming, "Dad, I missed you."

Zeral enveloped his son in a tight embrace. "You don't know how much I missed you too. You're the reason why I never give up fighting, so I can see you and your mother again."

The day unfolded in a symphony of shared moments and laughter as father and son caught up on everything Zeral had missed during his time away. In the present, a bittersweet blend of tears and a smile graced Zeral's face as he walked, reminiscing about those cherished moments with his family. However, the warmth of those memories accompanied him only briefly before he left the now lifeless city of Bartak behind.

As Zeral walked along the road leading out of the abandoned city of Bartak, his contemplation of sacramental memories was abruptly interrupted by the approaching hoofbeats of a group of soldiers on horseback. Spotting him from a distance, they veered off their path and rode towards him, their leader taking the lead with swords raised.

The clatter of hooves and the creaking of leather armor accompanied the soldiers as they closed in on Zeral. The leader, a stern expression etched on his face, directed a question toward the lone warrior. "Halt!" he commanded, swords still raised. "Hey you, stranger what are you doing here?"

Zeral didn't say anything and kept walking then the Leader re-asking him again "Hey, are you a dumb? I'm talking to you, so answer me, what are you doing here?"

Another soldier says "Stranger, don't you know monsters are crawling near this dead city? so what are you doing here alone?"

Zeral looked to them and said "It's not your business", and he keeps marching forward away from the soldiers

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The leader yells at Zeral "How dare you to say this to one of my soldiers? We can't let you walk away without giving us answers." then he follows Zeral with anger expressed in his mug face

Zeral nonchalantly responded to the leader's words with a dismissive "Mhm, okay, good luck." Undeterred, he continued on his way, seemingly ignoring the soldiers' attempts to engage him. The leader, growing increasingly agitated, ordered the soldiers to halt Zeral.

As they attempted to block his path, Zeral halted with a mischievous smile on his face. "I'm hungry, and I want some food," he declared. A soldier, incredulous, questioned, "What? Are you hungry? Who cares if you're hungry or not? You have to stop and answer us, or we will kill you." Another soldier chimed in, "Yes, that's right." Zeral responded with laughter.

"Hahaha, no one cares if I'm hungry or not. After all, no one will witness me devouring you one by one. You humans are quite delicious, after all."

The soldiers, taken aback by his statement, exchanged shocked glances. The leader, attempting to regain control of the situation, declared, "Don't let him fool you. He is not a monster, as you all see. He's a human looks like silver spoon with a death wish. How about we make that wish come true?" The other soldiers joined in with laughter, echoing sentiments of agreement. "Hahaha, hell yeah!"

As the soldiers observed Zeral, one of them sneered and remarked, "His skin looks like he fell into a well made of silver. Shall we capture him and sell him for coins?" The callous suggestion hung in the air, accompanied by mocking laughter from the soldiers. They exchanged crude remarks, fueled by ignorance and prejudice, as they contemplated exploiting Zeral's unique appearance for profit.

Amidst the soldiers' taunts, Zeral calmly interjected, asserting, "I'm not a monster. Yes, that's right, as you see, I may not be as ugly as them, but I'm not human." Tension hung in the air as Zeral's words lingered, casting an ominous shadow over the scene.

In a sudden, almost supernatural burst of movement, Zeral lunged forward, his hand piercing through the leader's chest with a sickening squelch. A guttural gasp escaped the leader's lips as Zeral extracted his still-beating heart with brutal efficiency. The soldiers, frozen in shock, witnessed the jarring display before them, a tableau of horror etched in their stunned expressions. The air was thick with suspense as the reality of Zeral's inhuman abilities unfolded before their eyes, leaving a haunting silence in the wake of the dreadful scene.

Zeral pull out the soldier's leader's heart from his chest then with a smile he says "Mhm, looks delicious, isn't it? Who wants to try it? Before getting cold" referring to the heat of the heart as it beating in his hands, then he says "no one wants some? alright then"

With a frighting display of savagery, Zeral mercilessly crushed the extracted heart in his hands, the sickening sound reverberating through the air. Unfazed by the gruesome act, he proceeded to consume the organ, relishing every moment with a maniacal laughter that sent shivers down the soldiers' spines. "So delicious, it's better than my wife's food. So, who's next?" he taunted, his blood-stained mouth contorted into a twisted grin.

The soldiers, paralyzed by the terrifying spectacle before them, were caught in a tableau of horror. Blood oozed from Zeral's mouth as he grinned menacingly at their shocked faces.

In the peculiar aftermath, one soldier stammered, "I've never seen someone move with this pace in my life. Is he even human?" Another, disbelief etched on his face, added, "I can't believe it. What the hell is this?" The realization of their impending doom gripped them, and one soldier, his voice trembling, declared, "No, no, we can't fight this monster. He's beyond us. Let's run."

The panicked suggestion of retreat hung in the air as the soldiers contemplated escaping the nightmarish entity that stood before them.

Zeral says "I said I'm not a monster and I'm not human, I don't care what I am so here is the deal, you have two options whether to try and kill me, or I will kill you all" as Zeral taking his blade out.

As the soldiers grappled with the harrowing reality of their predicament, a heated exchange ensued. One of them, fueled by a surge of anger, declared, "Let's kill him and avenge our leader!" The fervor in his voice echoed with a thirst for revenge.

However, a voice of reason and fear cut through the tension. Another soldier vehemently countered, "Hell no, we can't defeat him!" The acknowledgment of their adversary's overwhelming power rang with a severe realization.

Amidst the conflicting sentiments, a third soldier, his voice tinged with cowardice, pleaded, "Please, let's run from him, or we'll all die."

The desperation in his words conveyed the stark fear that had gripped their ranks, leaving them at the mercy of a supernatural force that defied comprehension. The decision hung in the balance, torn between vengeance, the acknowledgment of futility, and the instinct for self-preservation.

As the soldiers recoiled in horror, Zeral's malevolent grin intensified with anger, casting an ominous shadow over the scene. In a swift and ruthless motion, he retrieved his sword and sent it hurtling through the air, its deadly trajectory finding its mark with chilling accuracy—the cowardly soldier's head. The instantaneous death that followed sent shockwaves through the remaining soldiers, their faces etched with a haunting mix of fear and disbelief.

Zeral's cold laughter resound in the aftermath of the grisly execution. "Shut up. This is war, and in war, you never leave without a fight. So come, soldiers of Antorya, come and kill me now. I will fight you without a sword."

Amidst the horrified whispers, one of the soldiers mustered the courage to speak, "No way, he killed him like that, damn it. But you have another sword in your back, so?"

Zeral, still wearing his sinister smile, replied, "Well, that sword is special. I won't use it against ordinary humans like you. So come, let's dance." The scary invitation hung in the air, and the soldiers, now paralyzed by a potent blend of fear and uncertainty, stood poised on the precipice of a deadly encounter with a force beyond their comprehension.

With a burst of inhuman speed, Zeral sprinted through the chaos, his bare hands transforming into merciless weapons as he ruthlessly slaughtered every soldier in his path. The air was thick with the nauseating scent of blood, and the grotesque scene unfolded like a nightmarish tableau. Zeral, his face contorted into a maniacal grin, hacked and slashed at his victims, reducing them to mangled pieces of flesh that he voraciously devoured. His predatory actions mirrored a primal feast, akin to a starved beast finally sating its hunger after weeks of deprivation.

In the midst of the grisly melee, Zeral's adversaries, armed with swords and desperation, futilely attempted to fend off his relentless onslaught. The clash of steel and the pitiful cries of the soldiers reverberated through the air, drowned out by Zeral's sinister laughter as he effortlessly dispatched each opponent.

As the soldiers desperately wielded their swords against Zeral, a disturbing realization dawned upon them – their weapons were utterly ineffective against his silver-infused skin. Their futile attempts to pierce or slash at him only served to intensify the awful spectacle unfolding before their eyes. Zeral, impervious to their conventional weaponry, continued his merciless rampage, his silver skin acting as an impenetrable shield against their feeble strikes.

The clash of metal against Zeral's resilient form produced a dissonant symphony of desperation, each strike echoing the soldiers' helplessness. Zeral, seemingly invulnerable, reveled in the grisly dance, his predatory smile widening with each unsuccessful attempt to wound him. The soldiers, now grasping the futility of their efforts, faced a nightmarish reality – their adversary was beyond the reach of their mortal weapons, leaving them at the mercy of an unstoppable force.

Amid the carnage, an unexpected intruder emerged from the nearby forest—an enormous bear, drawn to the scent of fresh blood and the promise of an easy meal. The colossal creature approached with a predatory hunger, its massive form contrasting sharply with the chaos that unfolded.

The question hung in the air: would this gigantic bear become the predator, preying upon both Zeral and the soldiers, or would it unwittingly become the prey in the face of a force more monstrous and cunning than itself? The unfolding scene held an air of suspense, a deadly dance between man, beast, and the insatiable appetite for survival.

The end.